A Momen Trelawney Will Never Forget
by Hannahsc
Summary: Written for HPFF Duel, missed the deadline by a few hours : . One Shot, read and review!


A/N I wrote this for the HPFF Duel, but I missed the deadline.

Hope you all enjoy!

The scene looked very much like a Christmas special on BBC; but unlike 'A Charlie Browns Christmas Special', it wasn't just the beautiful way in which the snow fell outside the attic window that was magical. This house itself was a magical one; the attic's occupants, a fifteen year old Hogwarts 4th year and her grandmother were magical, and the snow globe they hunched over, peering into the future was, arguably, magical.

"Grandma, I will never get this!" The girl screamed in frustration, just barely containing her urge to kick the snow globe off its wooden stand. She shook her head to vent some of her anger and her flowing brown hair slipped over her shoulders. Her frizzes could never be contained, no matter how many serums, spells, tricks, or creams she used. "I can barely See into a crystal ball, that little muggle trinket is not going to miraculously Show me anything!"

As the girl stood up and clenched her fists, her grandmother merely took a minute's pause to consider her words. Everything about her grandmother was Seer-like. The only time the woman was not a force to be revered was right after the making of a prophecy. When Cassandra, the grandmother, Saw into the future, she became a force to be reckoned with. Cassandra looked up at her grand-daughter, taking in the mirror image for her younger years. If only Sybil didn't have such a block around her aura, she could truly See anything. Any Seer can tell another Seer, the inner eye is at times as much a curse as it is a blessing; it's like a conscience, only instead of words it speaks images. Cassandra was constantly Seeing, and right now her Granddaughters' emotions of guilt and frustration were enough to grab the whole attention of her inner eye.

You could almost feel the way the wise white-haired woman considered every word that was about to be spoken. Her tight bun, held in place with Madame Pumipants Miracle Pomade, crinkled a bit as she shook her head 'no'. Flakes of white dried pomade dribbled from her tightly wound bun and Sybil held back a cringe; she had begged her Grandmother several times in the past to use the new and improved Monsieur Baudelaire's Non-Flake Pomade, but she always declined. No matter how much Sybil disagreed with her Grandmothers choice of pomade; however, she still knew better than to interrupt whatever pearls of wisdom were about to come out of her wrinkled wise mouth.

"The magic is in the Seer, not the tool" She said, in a raspy voice that had become worn with decades of prophecy-making. The woman looked at Sybil thoughtfully, as though seeing past her surface emotions and into something deeper. Sybil held back a shiver, wondering how much longer she'd be stuck up here holding reactions back, whilst there was a veritable winter wonderland just outside the house confines.

"What pearls," Sybil muttered sarcastically, hurriedly looking up at her grandmother through her brown frizzy fringe to catch her expression. Her grandmothers' face still held the same pensive, tranquil look it always did and held no sign of having heard Sybil's voice; _and if she had, she mustn't have caught the sarcasm,_ Sybil thought, before sitting down and readying herself to disappoint her grandmother once more.

"Grandmamma, that's just the point." Sybil began apprehensively, still not sure if her grandmother had heard her earlier words. Sybil's voice took on the dreamy tone it always did when she recalled her failure as a seer. It seemed every time she was around divination, or something of the like, the only thing she could help thinking about was her lack of aura. Not only could she not See, but she barely had an inner ear to carry out the most elementary of divinistic practices. "I don't have the magic of prophecy, Seeing, Hearing, or any other type of wandless magic really" Sybil slipped her hands into the pockets of her deep blue and white wizarding robes and held out her wand. "This is what my abilities are confined to."

Sybil then looked away, admittedly dramatically but that was a personality trait one acquired after years spent in the presence of a Seer. Turning their heads upon hearing grave news, or theatrically overacting on an event was something all Divinizers were known for. On Seers, Hearers and Tellers of the Future, dramatics seemed necessary and induced empathy, on Sybil, however, they came off as prat-like and snobbish.

"Sybil" Her grandmother said in a low tense tone, Sybil looked up through the combined screen of her lashes and fringe to see her grandmothers' eyes glazing over slightly before she huskily breathed the words. "Prophecy coming" and "Listen close."

Sybil sucked in a breath and jumped to her knees, looking up at her grandmother with wide eyes as her Grandmother lifted an arm and pointed just past Sybil's shoulder. A rush flew through Sybil's stomach, although her grandmother gave several prophecies a week, Sybil was at Hogwarts during the year and missed a great many of them. Once or twice the prophecy's concerned a character of great interest to her, somebody that's been referred to as the Seer of the Future. So far, Sybil had induced that this woman, or man, will See a great event, and singlehandedly change the course of the world. What's more, is Sybil once learned before boarding the train to school, is that she'll never know what she's done. It took Sybil a great deal of time to piece together those two parts of the puzzle; and judging by her Transfiguration grade, it was time that should have been spent using practicing transfigurations.

In anticipation for the next bit of info on the miraculous Seer, Sybil put her hands on her knees and her wide brown eyes, only slightly hindered in size by the coke-bottle glasses she sported, watched hungrily as her Grandmother croaked:

"The prophecy that shall determine an era shall be made by the one that has not yet Seen. The great Seer shall be the Granddaughter to the She Whose Seen This Seer, yet in their tree every other generation lacks prophetic leaves." Her grandmother sucked in a deep breath, as Sybil exhaled a sharp one out, before continuing in a deep raspy voice. "The prophecy that shall determine an Era shall be made by the Seer of the Future, yet she shall never know it, she shall never discover it, and she shall See it all."

Several hoarse coughs followed and Sybil rose, in quite a daze, to help her grandmother onto her stool; not even flinching when several flakes of the dreaded pomade fell onto her arm. When her grandmother was seated, Sybil brushed off the flakes and, ghost white, stood up by the window. She became immersed in her thoughts as her grandmother called to her. The snowflakes had her mesmerized as she pieced the prophecy together word by word and ignored her grandmothers' calls until a large snow globe hit her on the leg. She kept her eyes trained on a piece of fallen snow that sat at the bottom of a large oak in her backyard. She watched it between the bars of her circular attic window and became enthralled in her thoughts.

_The prophecy that shall determine an era shall be made by the one that has not yet Seen._ Sybil thought, in an attempt to muddle out this riddle. _The great Seer shall be the granddaughter to She Who's Seen This Seer. _

"Sybil!" Her grandmother called impatiently.

_Oh bugger, _Sybil thought, fixing her eyes a solidly on base of the tree. _ Who's seen the Seer?_ She knocked her head on the windows bar when nothing intelligent followed that thought. _Oh why can't I figure this out?_ It seemed as though She'd be destined for brain-blocks her whole life._ Wouldn't it be a wonderful skill_, she thought, _to be able to make things up and have the authority to claim that it's right?_

"Sybil!" Her grandmother called again, her voice a little more anxious. Sybil knew that the longer she kept her grandmother waiting after a prophecy, the more ornery she'd get. But too consumed in her thoughts to pay the Seer any mind, Sybil turned her head to the bright winter sky and furrowed her brow in concentration. "What did I See?" Her grandmother called, and Sybil jerked her head down as the wheels turning in her head suddenly stopped when she reached the junction of discovery. Her hand flew up to her messy hair and her thoughts were a wild, excited mess as she discovered, well herself.

_Grandmother is the Seer who's Seen the Seer of the Future_. She said in her head, before quickly running through the check list of clues she'd created in her head. _I'm the Granddaughter of a great seer? Check._

"Sybil!"

_Nobody but my Grandmother has the Sight. Check. _

"SYBIL!"

_And I haven't yet Seen! Check! _

"SYBIL CASSANDRA TRELAWNEY!"

"Grandm-" Sybil started to turn around, a wide smile plastered on her face as she turned to tell her Grandmother, but she was interrupted by a snowman trapped in a glass ball colliding with her leg.

"Ow!" Sybil yelled, massaging her calf and now considering whether or not she should just keep the prophecy from her Grandmother

"What was the prophecy you insolent child." Her grandmother called, completely ruining the awe and wonder Sybil was feeling seconds ago. Her grandmother started a string of curses that Sybil might have taken note of to use later, when she returned to Hogwarts, if she weren't so immersed within her own thoughts. Her grandmother was always short-tempered and tetchy after a prophecy and Sybil rethought keeping the prophecy for herself when Cassandra narrowed her eyes dangerously.

"Grandmamma-"Sybil started, remembering a previous prophecy that warned 'Nobody can know about the identity of the Seer, except for those that discover themselves. "I don't know if I should say."

"Did the prophecy mention secrets?" Her grandmother asked, her voice regaining some of its strength.

"Yes" Sybil answered, unsure of how her grandmother would react.

"Very well" She said, tranquilly. "We shouldn't mess with the strands of time."

Sybil took a deep calming breath, desperately wanting to tell her grandmother that the prophecy was about her. Sybil might love her Grandmother, but she was still only a fourteen year old witch who had a secret; and no matter how much a fourteen year old witch loves somebody, they will keep their secrets to the grave.

_I'm going to See_. She thought, smiling despite her Grandmothers dangerous expression. _I'm going to See._

"Now sit here and bring the muggle sphere with you." The Seer of Legends called in an almost restored voice, gesturing to the mat that previously served as Sybil's seat.

Sybil sat, and her Grandmother raised an eye at her lack of complaint, but took it in stride as they continued the listen. And so closed the day that Sybil Trelawney shall never forget, but thus began the future of a Seer.


End file.
